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"You know, for a, what, almost eighty year old you're not in too bad shape," she said.

I threw my shorts at her and she caught them, laughing, then tossed them over the side into the water.

"Not clever," I said.

"You think?"

"Really, not clever," and I dove over the railing to retrieve them. By the time I climbed back on board they were safely covering me.

I left Emmy to commune with the sun and started the motor and turned us back toward shore and whatever the rest of the day might bring, knowing some corner had been turned, content with what was to come now.

I cleaned the snapper and buried it in white charcoal coals while we opened a bottle of wine and sat around in chairs on the beach. Emmy had finally put some clothes on, which was lucky as a few people passed by, waving as they made their way toward or from Harvey's.

We ate the fish with our fingers and Emmy wiped hers on my face and I rolled her to the ground and sat astride her, both of us suddenly serious. I stared down into eyes that promised me the world and more and knew I was lost, but didn't know what to do about it.

I stood and walked away, letting the coals settle and the gulls take the rest of the snapper.

I was on the sofa when Emmy came in a half hour later.

She came across and sat on me, a leg to either side, and put her hands on my shoulders.

"Whatever you want, Daddy. You know you can have whatever you want."

I held her waist and looked at her like a man looks at a woman, knowing she could see the hunger in my eyes.

"Soon," I said.

"Really?"

"Not tonight, baby, but soon."

"Promise?"

"It's a big thing."

Emmy grinned and rocked against me. "It sure is. And I'm only a little girl."

I slapped her ass and she pretended it hurt, then leaned close and kissed me. This time my lips refused to obey my mind and her tongue came sliding through, slippy and hungry and wet. I grasped her ass and pulled her down against me, hard in an instant, and she breathed into me, the breath whistling through her nose. I kissed her neck, her earlobes, and then my hand was beneath her top and a breast had miraculous fallen under my touch.

"Oh, yes, Daddy," she whispered, kissing me on my nose, my eyes, my earlobes.

I pulled on her nipple, feeling it stiffen to my touch, feeling the small weight and potency of the breast I held, and then reason came calling and I pushed her away.

"We can't," I said.

She came back. "We can, Daddy. Of course we can."

"What I want to do to you is illegal."

"I want it too, just as much as you."

"Yes. No." I rubbed a hand across my face. "We just can't, baby, we can't."

"Fuck!" She stood and ran from the room, her bedroom door slamming a moment later.

I expected come morning for her to be gone, but I knew I'd done the right thing, the adult thing, the thing a father is meant to do for his daughter however much he might not want to.

I expected her to come back at any moment, knowing if she did my resistance would crumble like the sand under our feet, but she didn't, and slowly my resolve grew.

I got up and started toward my own room when a green light caught my attention. My MacBook was still turned on. I detoured and reached for the switch, then hesitated. Emmy had been typing on it only that morning.

I sat and woke the screensaver.

A Word document was still open and I scrolled to the top and started to read.

After a while I printed the pages, ten of them, and took them to my room.

The writing wasn't bad, wasn't great, but it wasn't the writing I cared about right then.

I almost got up and went through to her then lay back down. Then I got up and undressed, slid under the single sheet that was all I needed in summer. I must have read those ten pages twice, maybe more, before Emmy's voice called me back to the present.

"What are you doing, Daddy?"

I had been somewhere else, with someone else. Or not. With Emmy in my mind.

"Did you write this?"

She looked at the pages. "Dunno, what is it?"

I started to re

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